The Open Wound
by CooperJackson
Summary: That's an awfully negative title. There is kissing in this story. No negativity. I think. I'm not sure. Jane and Maura kiss... that's why you read these things right?


_This is not edited, and I'm okay with that. _

_I wrote this last night and sometime this morning, because I like emails telling me I have reviews._

_So I hope you guys like this._

_Also, I haven't done my Spanish homework yet. Yo __tengo que hacer tarea de español._

_Make good choice friends._

_-Cooper_

* * *

"We really should take you to the hospital." Frost said from the front of the unmarked car, his eyes never leaving the road.

"It's nothing. Really. Korsak, tell him it's nothing." Jane said from the back seat, her head tilted up and her vision blocked by the end trails of a shirt that she was holding tightly to her forehead also muffling her words.

"It's nothing Frost." Korsak monotoned, his attention elsewhere.

"If it's nothing, why are you holding my gym shirt to your open wound?" Frost questioned, his voice laced with humor.

"Because Maura bought me this shirt." Jane mumbled, the shirt once again muffling her words, rendering her mutterings unintelligible but the men in the front of the car.

"Yeah, well, you just be lucky that I changed my clothes today, this happen yesterday you'd be holding my sweaty t-shirt to that open wound." He chuckled at his own words. "Don't bleed on my car."

Jane declined to answer, holding the shirt closer to her forehead, staunching the flow of blood, and wishing that she hadn't gotten injured, and regretted the decision to go see Maura first. Maura had done stitches for her before, but never on her face. Jane wasn't sure that she would consent to this.

But she didn't care. She wanted to be near Maura. Because Maura made her feel safe, Maura made her feel calm and relaxed and warm and tingly and – _And nothing else Rizzoli, nothing else._

Or nothing else that she would want to explain.

***RANDOM POV SWITCH***

"Yo Doc, you in?" Maura Isles heard the shout through the morgue and into her office before she saw the man, the dulcet tones of Barry Frost carrying through the maze of stainless steel and freezers.

"In my office Detective Frost!" She called back, saving the shoes she was looking at in her cart to be returned to at another time. Standing, straightening her skirt, she exited the office and her heart immediately dropped at the sight that met her eyes.

Detective Frost was leading Jane by the elbow, her head tipped back and trails of dried blood leading down her neck and back up to a wound that was being covered by a t-shirt. Panic flooded her limbs, and adrenaline coursed through her veins as she scanned the rest of Jane's body. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, or injured, and for that Maura was thankful.

She'd fallen in love with Jane a long while ago, and every time Jane left the station for anything that was case related, part of her died a little, only to be resurrected when she came back unscathed. But these times, these were hard because it served as a stark reminder to Maura about what could happen and those possibilities always ran cold through her as she saw Jane.

And her already stretched too thin, locked up tight heart couldn't handle it.

"What happened?" She asked, using all of her strength to keep her voice even and not run to Jane, and take the detective into her arms.

"I don't wanna tell you." Jane mumbled and Detective Frost burst out with a single laugh that turned quickly into a cough and grunt with an errant elbow to his ribs. Maura stifled a small smile, and walked closer to take Jane's elbow and lead the bleeding detective to her office.

"Okay Jane." Maura said, gently taking Jane's elbow and holding tightly to her, glad for the connection, the sturdiness of the body beside hers. "Thank Barry, I've got this."

The young detective nodded and turned to leave, exiting the morgue and heading upstairs to their bullpen, leaving the two women alone together. Something Maura both hated and wanted. Desperately.

Situating Jane on the corner of her desk, she pulled Jane's head down and attempted to pull the shirt away from Jane's forehead, but her motions were halted by Jane.

"No." Jane said, her voice more raspy than usual. Something that Maura loved on Jane. When her already deep and rough voice was more strained. She longed to hear it in other situations, but would settle for what she could get. Even if it came in the package of injured Jane. Though now that she was sure Jane was not in mortal peril, the panic that filled her body before now left, making her limbs feel heavy with the adrenaline that was flowing through her veins.

"I have to look at it sweetie, to see what I need to fix it." Maura said gently, covering Jane's blood covered hands, wincing as the reddish-brown stains felt rough under her fingertips.

Blood. It was blood. And she knew it, but it was Jane's blood. It didn't belong anywhere expect in Jane. Keeping Jane alive and healthy. Reddish-brown stains.

"But it feels like it will keep bleeding." Now her voice was small, and Maura didn't like it.

"That's okay Jane, that's why I'm here." She kept her voice even and calm.

"No, this is the shirt you got me, I don't want to ruin it." Jane admitted after a moment's hesitation and Maura's heart soared with the admittance. She hadn't noticed, but now she could see the crisp lines and expensive buttons were from the shirt she had bought for Jane, to make her wardrobe less of an exercise in fashion futility.

"We can get you a new shirt," she responded lightly, gripping the hands that were resisting her. "Jane, I'll buy you two new shirts if you just let me look."

"Can I get a blue one this time?" She asked, her voice child like and her hands still resisting.

"You can have whatever you want, Jane." She replied.

"Okay." Her resistance ended and Maura pulled Jane's hands away to inspect the wound.

It wasn't nearly as bad as Maura had been imagining. There was a three-inch laceration along Jane's brow line, the open wound trailing along her arched eyebrow and if stitched properly any scar that would remain, and there shouldn't be one, would be hidden by her eyebrow.

Covering the wound back up, she moved the entrails of the shirt to look into Jane's eyes. Her pupils were dilated, probably with the headache she was no doubtedly feeling. Maura could see the dried tears that sat in the corner of Jane's eyes, and she was suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss the brunette, but she squashed it down, knowing that she couldn't do that.

As much as she wanted to.

"You stay here, I'm going to go change into my scrubs and grab a suture kit, stay here."

Jane mumbled something that Maura couldn't decipher, so she took it as acquiescence and left to get ready for fixing Jane.

***ANOTHER RANDOM POV SWITCH*** (because why not?)

Jane sat and waited. And waited.

And fell a little bit more in love with Maura.

Yep. She could admit it. She didn't like it, because there was no way that Maura could ever love her back, but she knew what she felt. Knew that she felt more for Maura than she should have, knew that without a doubt she loved her, and knew that she was a coward for not saying anything.

She was Jane _FUCKING _Rizzoli. Most people didn't know what that meant, but lots of people did. Lots of people knew that the name Rizzoli meant strength, unwavering courage and fierce, fierce loyalty. She knew what her name meant, but she also knew the risks.

Knew what she was risking by loving Maura. And not in terms of the world, because that could all be fixed. Her mom, her coworkers, the taunts, all of that meant nothing, It was her friendship with Maura that she was risking.

The single most important relationship she had been in in her entire life, and will probably ever have, because Maura just got her. Maura with her brain the size of Texas, heart the size of Alaska and social etiquette awareness the size of Rhode Island. The googlemouth, the fancy clothes – yes, even this shirt – the ridiculously high heels at crime scenes and the lack of an ability to read sarcasm. The fit together, like pieces of a simple puzzle.

It was like that website, White Puzzle, that was her and Maura. A jigsaw puzzle that had no picture, was just white pieces. At first, it didn't make sense, how can you have a puzzle without a picture? You couldn't. But if you looked, really looked, and followed the edges, they would fit together perfectly.

That's how they worked. It didn't make sense.

But it made perfect sense.

Because it was her and Maura.

"Hey, sweetie, I'm back." Jane just nodded, pushing back the pain that was growing behind her eyes, her body moving towards the pull of Maura.

She was a teenager. A thing she hated, because she loved Maura, deeply, truly and drastically. And that's how teenagers loved.

It was unrealistic, it was painful, it was earth shattering and stupid, it defined her, drove her crazy and grounded her in sanity.

She was a fucking lost cause and Maura was her road map.

She kind of hated herself for thinking like this.

"I know you said you'd buy me two shirts, but can we take this one off please, I like it." It still smelled like Maura, that's why she liked it.

"Can you do that yourself? Or do y… do you need help?" Jane loved the awkward pause in Maura's questions.

"Can you hold the shirt?" Instead of words, Maura's hands covered her own, and Jane made quick work of her shirt and blazer, leaving her in her white ribbed wife-beater, term political-correctness aside, and Maura in her black scrubs.

Jane loved Maura in her black scrubs.

Jane would love Maura in anything. Or nothing.

Now there's an image. _Cool it Rizzoli._

"Okay Jane, I can do this. I have the skills, but it might be better if a plastic surgeon did this particular set of sutures." Maura intoned, pulling the bloody shirt away from Jane's face, and immediately reaching up with gauze and covering the wound.

"Will you screw it up?" Jane asked, looking into Maura's wide eyes, loving how the closeness could bring out the gold flecks in her hazel orbs.

"I don't like to guess."

"Is that Dr. Isles Speak for 'that's a distinct possibility, but I don't want to say yes'?" Jane asked, fidgeting with the scars on her palms.

"It's Dr. Isles Speak for 'your face is beautiful and I don't want to chance my limited plastic surgery skills on a scar marring that beauty.'" Maura said, pulling out a local anesthetic and depressing the plunger to expel any excess air to prevent an air embolism.

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"I think you're gorgeous. As I've said." Maura whispered, lifting the gauze and not looking into Jane's eyes, patently avoiding them actually.

"Then you have a better reason to not screw up." Jane whispered, then added after placing one of her hands on Maura's hip, "plus scars are badass. And I'm –"

"Jane Rizzoli. I know." Maura said, stepping into the space between Jane's knees and reaching up and giving her the shot of anesthetic.

Jane slipped her hand around Maura's hip, resting her palm on the curve of Maura's hip, her hand on top of the doctor's butt. Her thumb hooked into the drawstring waist of the scrub pants, effectively holding Maura in place.

It may have been a lot to process in a very small amount of time but she couldn't must the strength to care. The warmth of the blonde's body, the scent that was Maura, the way the fluorescent lights cascaded through her hair, all of it was making Jane feel comforted and safe. Warm and fuzzy, and she hated herself for thinking these things.

Because she loved Maura.

Loved the way the loose fitting black scrubs made Maura seem more – normal isn't the right word – more… down to earth. The knit undershirt to keep her warm in the cooler than normal room clinging to her curves tightly, making Jane's mouth water.

But Jane kept her eyes on Maura's eyes. The inquisitive orbs were glued the work she was doing, her hands and arms moving in time with her actions. Living patients not her specialty aside, Jane could feel the gentleness that Maura was using and she was suddenly overcome with the desire to kiss Maura, and this time, _this time_, she couldn't resist.

Didn't have the strength to. The desire to.

Slipping her other hand onto Maura's waist, she applied a little bit of pressure, which Maura gave into and took another step closer.

"Jane, stop, I need to concentrate." Maura whispered, her breath like mint and coffee as it washed over Jane.

"Maura." Jane started.

"Seriously Jane."

"Maura please." Jane could tell that she heard that time. Maura's shoulders slumped, and she lowered her arms. The string currently holding her wound closed, yet not tied off tickled her cheek, and goosebumps erupted over her skin as Maura's hands settled on her shoulders, and when green eyes met brown, Jane knew that she wasn't going to fight any longer.

Without any thought, with no planning and no motive other than the desire to know what kissing Maura was like, Jane took a shuddering breath, and blew it out between pursed lips, exhaling "I want to kiss you."

Maura swallowed, Jane could see the action in the smooth muscles on her throat, and Jane knew she wanted to taste that area of skin as well. A long, quivering exhalation of air came from the doctor, a hungry look in her eyes as her tongue wet her lips.

The was torture for the both of them.

"I'm going to, unless you stop me Maura." Because Jane would stop, even though the action would kill her.

"I won't stop you." Maura whispered, her hands sliding from Jane's shoulders to the back of her neck, as she shuffled closer.

So Jane nodded once, cause she was badass like that, and leaned down and captured Maura's lips with here, finally knowing the soft delicacy that was kissing Dr. Isles. And my god, if this chaste kiss was all it took to spread warmth through her entire body, Jane knew that she would worship at the alter of Maura Isles for her entire life.

Pulling back to see how Maura was, Jane regretted the day that people learned and needed to breathe as she looked into Maura's eyes.

"I thought you said you were going to kiss me." Maura whispered.

"I did?" Jane whispered back, both a question and a statement.

"No, Jane, this is a kiss."

And suddenly Jane was being in kissed in a way she'd never been kissed before. She'd been with men before, and one or two questioning situations with women, but this was a whole different plane of experience. Maura knew how to kiss, and well. Which Jane should have been expecting, but nothing about this was expected.

As Maura deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting and mating, Jane tightened her grip around Maura's waist, pulling her closer as Maura's arms tightened around Jane's neck, holding them together.

Moments passed, Jane wasn't sure how many exactly and nor did she care, because this, kissing Maura, was something she wanted to do forever.

Finally breaking apart, Jane rested her forehead against Maura's and took deep, calming breaths because she could feel Maura everywhere. It was making her heart race, her palms sweaty and the pain that had been building behind her eyes had vanished as they'd kissed and Jane knew that Maura would forever be her drug of choice.

"What was that?" Maura asked, breathless and questioning as she rubbed soothing circles in the bottom hairline, running her fingers through Jane's curls.

"Amazing." Not the answer Maura was looking for, but Jane didn't care. She wanted to do it again.

"Yes." Maura agreed, placing another light, chaste kiss against Jane's lips. "Not what I was asking so let me rephrase. What does that mean?"

"I means that you and I have incredible chemistry and that I think we should do this more often." Jane whispered, pulling Maura back to her lips.

"I agree," Maura whispered breaking the kiss, "But I don't like seeing you get injured, can we skip the stitches next time?"

Jane offered a quick laugh then another quick kiss. "Not what I meant."

"I know what you meant." Maura said, pulling her hands from Jane and moving away to change her gloves, Jane watched as she came back, her eyes were sparkling like she'd never seen before, lipstick smeared all around her lips and Jane felt some primal form of pride swell in her, knowing that the swollen lips and smeared lipstick were her doing.

She like this look on Maura.

And suddenly knew that she was allowed to like this look on Maura. They needed to talk, sure, but for now, actions spoke louder than words.

So as Maura got back to finishing the stitches on her forehead, Jane reached up and wiped the lipstick from around Maura's lips. "We'll have to make ourselves presentable before we leave. You look like you've just been kissed thoroughly and soundly."

"Speak for yourself Detective I-Never-Wear-Make-Up-But-This-Shade-Of-Rouge-Is-Called-Kiss-Me-Now." Maura joked.

"So now you can joke. Who knew, Dr. Smarty Pants?"


End file.
